


Kinktober Fragments

by Udunie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, BDSM, Bestiality, Bondage, Chastity Device, Chikan, Cock Cages, Cock Warming, Collars, Creampie, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dark, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, Feminization, Fisting, Forced Pregnancy, Genderswap, Glory Hole, Humiliation, Incest, Infantilism, Inflation, Kinktober 2019, Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation, Masochism, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Object Insertion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Praise Kink, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roleplay, Sadism, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Serial Killers, Size Difference, Somnophilia, Threesome - M/M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: Unconnected ficlets written for Kinktober.All of the chapters are unconnected, various kinks, various pairings, but mostly Steter





	1. Object insertion (Chris/Derek/Peter/Stiles)

“Peter," Stiles said, his voice low and hoarse."Peter…  _ more _ ."

Peter shook his head, feeling fond and dumbfounded in equal measures. He never thought their little omega would be this insatiable, heat or not. Oh, he expected Stiles to be a size queen, he expected him to be needy. But he never even imagined that the slight, young man would tire out three Alphas in a single night and then just continue begging. 

"You are unbelievable," Chris said from beside them on the bed. His eyes were half-lidded, his body covered in sweat. "I fucked you at least three times, I can't even move."

"Baby," Peter said, smoothing his palm down the boy's shivering back. "Derek just pulled out two minutes ago." He reached down to push three fingers into Stiles’ dripping, lose hole, just to prove the point, but it only made the boy moan.

His nephew sat at the foot of the bed, looking dazed, his cock red and slowly softening. 

"I'm not sure I can get it up again," he said, a little bit panicked. 

Stiles looked like he was in a trance, hugging a pillow and trying to fuck himself back against Peter’s fingers.

“B-but… I need…” Before he could even finish the sentence, he yawned, nose scrunching up adorably enough to make Peter want to coo at him.

“The only thing you need is a little rest. We will fuck you again tomorrow, I promise.” 

Chris made a disgruntled little noise, like he wasn’t sure they would be up for it, but he’d always been of little faith in Peter’s opinion.

Stiles reached a hand out for him, grabbing onto Peter’s arm, trying to pull him closer.

“I can’t… I’m too empty.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. He was still fucking their needy boy with his fingers. Then again, with how many cocks he’d taken tonight, it was no surprise that measly little fingers weren’t enough.

“You didn’t bring any toys?” Peter asked Chris, who shook his head. His eyes were closed, maybe he was already half-asleep.

“Thought the three o’ us could manage,” he murmured. 

Peter snorted. So did he, to be honest. This was Stiles’ first heat with them, but he’d never heard of an omega going unsatisfied with three healthy Alphas before. He looked around the room, desperate for a solution. They needed sleep. All of them.

His eyes landed on a 20oz plastic bottle discarded by the nightstand. It still had some water sloshing around the bottom, probably already lukewarm, but that was okay. Peter wasn’t thirsty. 

“I have an idea, baby, just a second,” he said, pulling his hand away from Stiles’ bottom, making the boy moan at the loss. He grabbed the bottle, and used the mix of come and slick to lube it up. “It’s okay, darling, just relax for me.”

Peter fitted the top to Stiles’ hole, it went in easy enough until the thickest part, the girth was a bit larger than a knot, but that was exactly what he wanted.

“Push for me, baby,” he said. The bottle tapered in a little near the bottom. They just had to get it in that far, and then it would hopefully satisfy their needy boy until morning.

Stiles whined, eyes squeezed tight, but he did as he was told. He was always so good for them.

The omega cried out when the bottle finally slipped in deep enough, his rim stretched obscenely over the see-through plastic, his walls lovely and pink around it.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Peter said, making sure that the bottle was sitting firmly, and then pulling the boy closer to him to make room for Derek too.

“We will pick it back up in the morning.” 


	2. Sadism/Masochism (Peter/Stiles)

“I hope you know how lucky you are, darling” Peter said, walking around Stiles in a tight circle. Not like the boy could hear him; his head covered in a latex mask with no eye holes and with his ears carefully plugged under it. The only thing visible from his face were the red, puffy lips stretched around the ring of his gag. 

Really, it would have been so, so easy to abuse the power in his hands. It was like a drug circling in his veins, making everything feel and smell sharper. More thrilling.

A drop of saliva fell from Stiles’ mouth to the floor, his hands clenching where they were locked in the stocks on either side of his head.

Peter carefully ran his fingers along the rigid line of the slim cane in his hand. The possibility of all the damage he could do making him light-headed. But the real rush was keeping all that power, and to keep it, he needed to use it wisely. 

He circled back to Stiles’ ass, mouth watering at the sight of it, with the raised, red welts crisscrossed against his skin. He’d been careful not to break the surface, but he got as close as he could, and just from looking, he knew the marks he made would stay for weeks. Peter felt his cock twitch at the thought of fucking Stiles later, of the desperate, pained little cries he will be making when Peter’s hips will be slapping against those angry welts, the way his hole will clench around his cock…

But first, he had to work his boy properly. As fragile as Stiles could look with his long, elegant hands and pale skin, he was a whore for the pain Peter could deliver, and would not be satisfied until he was a shaking, sobbing mess curled in a ball and losing enough control to soil himself. 

Peter put his cane down and picked up a roll of medical tape, kneeling behind Stiles. The boy twitched and moaned at his touch, so Peter pinched the thin skin of his balls, trapped in a humbler and pulled taught, enjoying the way the pain made the boy’s breath go thready. 

“Behave, darling,” Peter growled, despite knowing that he wouldn’t be heard. He took a length of tape, parting Stiles’ cheeks and sticking one end beside his hole. He stretched it to the side, only smoothing it down when he was satisfied with the way it pulled Stiles’ skin tight. He repeated it on the other side. The tape did a wonderful job of exposing the boy’s crack, and his wet, twitching little hole. 

Peter couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his fingers over the rim roughly until it was dark and puffy. Lewd and begging to be punished, exactly like Stiles himself. 

He stood, picking up the cane, and just looking at his boy for a second. 

If he measured his strikes well enough, he could crack the cane across Stiles’ hole and balls at the same time… It was a good thing they had the basement soundproofed. 


	3. Feminization (Peter/Stiles)

Peter rarely took the subway, because… Well, New York was hard enough on werewolf noses even on the best of days, and being trapped in a subway car full of people stinking of misery was a horror he could barely take. Alas, today was just out to get him.

The car stopped at the next station, and despite being already packed, some people still managed to force their way inside, jostling Peter even closer to the back wall. If he wanted to be honest, he was about three seconds away from wolfing out and just massacring everyone he could reach when something very, very different hit his nose.

Something delicious. Delicious enough that he immediately forgot about all his annoyances, glancing around as carefully as he could to find the source of the smell without looking like a madman. It was… An unusual combination; a delicate, flowery perfume, mixed tantalizingly with the scent of decidedly  _ male  _ excitement. 

Despite popular belief, werewolves did not have ‘mates’ in the commonly understood sense of the word, but they were perfectly able to recognize sexually compatible partners, and the curious scent in the car was setting off all the bells in Peter’s head.

He discreetly sniffed the air to get a better feeling, and soon enough, his eyes zeroed in on a lanky person standing in the back of the car, smushed against the wall near the back window. As far as he could see through the people separating them the… boy - yes, it was definitely a boy - was crossdressing. How curious. He was wearing a beanie and a black silk choker, a white blouse with the tails of it tied together to reveal a strip of his belly, and a pleated, hot pink skirt barely covering his bottom. 

Well, well,  _ well _ . Peter was intrigued, and just stressed enough to jump on anything to entertain him. 

A few more people squeezed on before the doors could close, and Peter used the jostling of the bodies around him to make his way over, grabbing one of the handholes hanging above his head right as the car started moving. He was right where he wanted to be, behind the curious little creature.

He took another sniff of the air. This close, the boy’s smell was heady, making his gums itch with a primal want. Still, he took careful stock of everything about him before making his move. 

He could smell regular, male deodorant on him, it was settled into his skin enough to tell Peter that the crossdressing thing was more of a hobby, and not a lifestyle. It had to be a game. Some perverted little scheme the boy pulled to get an adrenaline rush. That would definitely explain the fragrance of arousal around him, even though he was just standing there, all on his own… And that meant that the poor little thing was trapped. Peter couldn’t imagine that he would like to be caught.

It looked like Peter was having a lucky day, after all. 

The boy hadn’t yet noticed him, and everyone around them was busy either looking at their phones, or studiously ignoring their surroundings. Perfect.

Peter shifted his hand - barely having to move at all in the close quarters - and cupped the boy’s ass through his skirt. Immediately, he could hear his heartbeat blowing up, body tensing. Interestingly enough, the smell of his arousal spiked before it soured with fear.

“Shh, it’s okay, princess. I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter said, leaning forward to whisper it against his ear. The boy shuddered, but made no move to get away. Peter could see just enough of his face to catch him bite his lips, eyes closing. “I like the game you’re playing, I’m sure you won’t mind me joining in,” he added.

He waited a second, just letting his hand rest on that sweet little bottom until the boy gave a tiny little nod. 

Peter grinned, glad that nobody was looking. He wasn’t sure his teeth looked entirely human. 

“Thank you, princess,” he said, finally allowing himself to move, sliding his palm down so he could get it under the hem of the boy’s skirt. He was wearing a thong under it, cheap and a size too small, judging from the way the string cut into his skin. 

Peter rubbed his fingers slowly down his crack, the boy biting off a moan when his thumb caressed his tight little hole.

Peter tutted, keeping his voice low.

“I could buy you much better lingerie, princess,” he murmured. “Something pretty that would fit you right.” 

Even the nape of the boy’s neck was flushed red, making his scent blossom and fill in a way that made Peter’s mouth water. He pulled his hand back, smiling a bit at the disappointed little hitch of breath from the boy. But he only needed a second to lick his thumb, and then he was back, carefully but relentlessly forcing the tip inside.

Peter was gentleman enough to hold the poor thing up when he came.


	4. Size Difference (Ennis/Stiles)

“Master Ennis,” Stiles said, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt when the man stepped into the suite. 

The guy was ginormous. A fucking mountain. He was also looking at Stiles with a glint in his eyes that had his belly do a nervous flip-flop.

“You’re the peace offering from the Hales?” he asked, voice slipping into a growl at the name.

Stiles swallowed.

“Yes, I’m-”

“Don’t care,” Ennis shot back, throwing himself down into an armchair that creaked worryingly under his weight. He leaned back, parting his legs. His thighs were as thick as Stiles’ middle. “Show me how sorry they are, and make it good.”

Stiles closed his eyes for a second to steel himself before stepping closer, but was stopped by Ennis snapping at him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, bitch? At least show me the merchandise.”

“S-sorry,” Stiles stuttered out, quickly shimming out of his clothes. At least his hands weren’t shaking while they had something to do.

Ennis watched him with a frown. 

“Do I have to coach you through this? Are you really this stupid? The whole point is the groveling. So get on your knees and get your ass here.”

Stiles bit his lip and did as he was told, feeling even smaller than he did before as he crawled over to the Alpha on his hands and knees on the plush carpet. Ennis looked out of place in his worn clothes, with the stubble on his chin. 

When he finally arrived in the v of the man’s legs, Ennis grabbed his hair, forcing his face flush against his crotch. His jeans smelled like gasoline and dust. Stiles didn’t think they’d been washed in the last month. But that wasn’t the most worrying thing. The most worrying thing was the very large bulge he could feel under his cheek. 

“Go on, don’t tell me you’re this clueless,” Ennis growled, keeping him where he was. Stiles swallowed, and then opened up, mouthing at the man’s groin, rubbing his lips over the rough fabric. 

“That’s better,” Ennis said, finally letting go of his hair. “Now you can open your present. You know what’s fucking funny? You’re supposed to pay a debt here, but really, I should fucking charge you for this.”

Stiles didn’t dare look at him, focusing on unbuttoning the jeans, and then taking a shaky, uneven breath when he succeeded. 

Oh dear god.

Ennis was going commando, his uncut cock resting against the crease of his thigh. He was also… Stiles didn’t have the words. He wasn’t fully hard yet, and he was already larger than anything he ever had before. Toys included. 

The man patted his face with more force than necessary, smirking.

“Don’t worry, bitch, I’m a grower.”

Stiles felt a bit lightheaded as he took Ennis’ cock in his hand, stroking it tentatively. It was so big, it didn’t even feel real… and it felt more and more like a fever dream as it hardened fully, ending up pretty much the same size as Stiles’ forearm. 

“You’re not doing this right,” the Alpha said, batting his hand away. He jerked himself roughly a few times. “Let’s see if you’re good for something else.”

He pulled Stiles in close with one hand fisted in his hair again, hard enough to make his eyes water. With the other, he pulled his foreskin back, revealing the large, mushroom head of his cock with a ring of yellowish-white smegma under the rim. Stiles was close enough to smell it, and it made him gag.

“Haven’t had a chance to shower in a few days, the least you can do is polish me real nice before I split you on my cock,” he snorted. “Open up, bitch.”

Stiles opened up.


	5. Overstimulation (Peter/Stiles)

Peter licked up along Stiles’ spine slowly, the taste of salt bursting on his tongue. Stiles was shaking under him, and he watched with fascination as the muscles in his back jumped from time to time. He wasn’t sure if it was the result of the overexertion or the aftershocks of the boy’s last orgasm… 

Stiles made a wounded little sound in the back of his throat that turned into a whine as Peter fucked into him. 

“Hush, darling,” Peter said. “We’re not done yet. We will be done when  _ I’m  _ done.”

It was stupid, he shouldn’t have taken the boy so seriously, but when Stiles made the mistake of implying that he was an old man who might not be able to keep up with a nineteen year old? He just couldn’t let it stand.

Peter pulled back leisurely, and then thrust forward again, punching out another of those sweet moans. He glanced to the clock at the bedside table. They’ve been having sex for seven hours and three minutes. Not his record yet, but close. Peter was out to set a new personal best. 

For a second, he pulled out of the boy, to make sure that Stiles’ was uninjured - he’d used plenty of lube, but he didn’t want to even accidentally hurt him. The rim was red and puffy, almost like a little mouth; shining with lube and gaping at him, drooling come and slick. It looked painful, and Peter took a second to rub his thumb over it, carefully leaching out the small threads of discomfort while still keeping the burning of overuse and making Stiles sob a little. The boy’s hole clenched and then burped out a blob of jizz. The mess was running down his taint and dripping to the sheets so Peter quickly fucked his cock back inside to stop it. As it stood, he would have to throw the sheets out. 

Then again, considering that he came three times, and Stiles at least… six? He might have to throw out the mattress too, what with how soaked it was with their fluids. Actually, he was pretty sure Stiles even peed a little around orgasm number five.

When Peter glanced up again, he saw Stiles looking at him over is shoulder. His face was red, eyes tear filled and glazed over. The poor thing looked pathetic, but it just made Peter want to fuck him again. He was positive that he had another round or two in him.

For now, he gripped Stiles’ hips, and started to pound into him properly. 

The boy’s eyes rolled back into his head, his fingers spasming where they were clenched in the pillow. 

“That’s right, darling, all you have to do is hold on,” Peter said with a smile as the room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Just hold on for me, I will take care of you.”

Stiles whined, his knees almost giving out as Peter sped up, grunting with the effort to really give it to his boy. When he finally came, he did feel a little winded, but he was sure Stiles didn’t notice it, too busy sobbing as Peter’s knot filled, spurting hot come into his belly. His hole wasn’t milking him as vigorously as it did the first time, but that was to be expected.

Peter leaned down over the boy’s body, kissing the back of his neck before sneaking a hand down to his groin. Stiles’ breath caught, hitching wetly, and if he could, he probably would have tried to bat Peter’s hand away from his cock, but he just didn’t have the energy anymore.

“No, no, darling. It’s your turn now, and you’re going to love it,” Peter said with a smirk. Stiles was almost completely soft, but that didn’t stop him from playing with his cock. They would be locked together for at least twenty minutes, he was sure he would be able to coax another orgasm out of his boy. 

Maybe even two, if he gave him a few minutes to cry between. 


	6. Lactation (Peter/Stiles)

Stiles made an aborted little sound as Peter fucked into him. He was trying to be careful, but it was hard. It was always hard to control himself while buried in his sweet mate to the hilt.

“I know, darling, I know,” he said, threading their fingers together. “But the doctor did say I should fuck you as much as possible in the last few days. It will make labor easier.”

Stiles just moaned, throwing his head back. His belly was enormous, and it jiggled with Peter’s every thrust.

“I-it’s too much,” the boy moaned. Peter loved how breathy he got during sex now. The babies were taking up too much space and making it hard for him to fill his lungs properly. Of course, he knew Stiles was having a hard time with his first pregnancy, always moaning about how it would be the last time, but there was something incredibly satisfying in seeing his mate full to bursting with his pups. He knew Stiles will be a wonderful father. He also knew he would be knocking him up again before the end of the year.

Peter had a pack to rebuild.

“It’s not too much, darling,” Peter assured him gently, “And you know this is the only way to get you off,” he added, thrusting hard enough into the boy to see his eyes fill with tears. Stiles’ cock was soft, bouncing with the force of Peter’s hips snapping forward, but it did dribble a little. From the second he got pregnant, the poor boy lost the ability to get hard because of the hormones. He knew Stiles missed it at first, he’d cried about it enough, but Peter hoped he was used to it now. God knew, he hoped the boy would spend more time pregnant than not in the next twenty-odd years, or as long as he was fertile. Then they would look back on the time Stiles tried to insist on birth control, and laugh about what a silly idea it had been.

Peter felt himself close to coming, and he let the boy’s hands go, choosing instead to kneed at his small breasts. They were only a palmful at this point, but he hoped that with regular care and use they would fill out more. Stiles hated them at first, but he was certain the boy would be changing his mind when the babies were born. Until then, it was up to Peter to make sure his pups would have plenty of milk to enjoy when they arrived.

Stiles whined, grabbing weakly at Peter’s wrists to pull his hands away from his sore tits, but it was no use, and soon enough the boy was too busy twitching into an orgasm on Peter’s knot. 

“That’s it, darling, just let it go,” Peter told him with a smile. “Just let me take care of you.”

Stiles was lost in bliss enough that he could pull out a few minutes later - even with his knot half-full - so he did just that, lying down beside his mate and taking one of his nipples in his mouth. Stiles didn’t even process what he was doing at first, too out of it, but he did jerk when Peter started sucking in earnest. 

“Sto… Fuck, stop it, it hurts,” the boy said, pushing at his head, but all it did was make Peter dig his teeth into the tender skin until Stiles gave up. “Please, Peter, please stop…”

“Hush, darling,” Peter said, lifting his head for a second to speak. “The babies will need milk, I want you to start lactating as soon as possible, you don’t want our children to go hungry, do you?”

Stiles looked at him with teary eyes before they fell closed. He shook his head silently.

Peter smiled, getting back to sucking. Stiles’ nipple looked red and raw from all his attempts to make him lactate today, but he wasn’t about to give up. They were close to making it happen, with only three days until Stiles was due, he could feel it.

He ignored the boy’s quiet hiss as the took the nipple between his lips again and hollowed his cheeks. 

Twenty minutes later, when the first burst of milk hit his tongue, he knew that tearing that condom nine months ago had been the best decision he’d ever made.


	7. Deep-throating (Peter/Stiles)

Peter let his head rest against the back of the couch, throat working on a dry swallow. His eyes fell closed even without his notice, the light from the TV painting the inside of his lids in blues and whites. The TV was muted, the only sounds in the apartment were the wet noises Stiles’ mouth made around his dick.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Peter murmured. He didn’t think he’d ever been more relaxed in his life than he was in this moment. “Just keep going for me.”

Stiles didn’t so much hum around him, as made a sweet little huffing noise. It made Peter’s eyes blink open. Then again, he never managed to keep his gaze away from his boy for too long… And Stiles was a sight to behold; his pretty pink lips were already swollen, even stretched around his cock, his cheeks flushed, eyes bright and so, so eager as they looked back at Peter.

He really did hit the jackpot with this one.

Peter reached out, palming the boy’s face carefully, caressing the thin skin under his eye with his thumb before hooking his fingers behind the hinge of his jaw and forcing him a bit lower. Stiles’ lashes fluttered at the intrusion, but he didn’t protest at all.

“I adore this,” Peter said, more honest than he meant to be. “I adore how much you just love sucking cock…”

If possible, Stiles’ cheeks pinked further at the comment, but his clever little tongue twisted around the head of Peter’s cock in what had to be agreement.

“The only time you’re honest with me - with the both of us - is when you’re on your knees with your mouth full.”

Stiles shuddered, making Peter smile. 

“Don’t be like that, baby, you know it’s true,” Peter said, sliding his hand from Stiles’ face to the back of his head. His roots were damp with sweat, but he didn’t mind it, twisting his fingers in the strands to get a better hold. Stiles’ gaze sharpened, his lips tightening around Peter, throat working to swallow the precome leaking onto his plush tongue.

Peter held his gaze. They both knew what was coming. They both knew Stiles loved it more than possibly anything in the world. But sometimes his boy just needed to feel like he wasn’t responsible for the hunger in his guts.

“Gonna make you swallow me all the way down, baby. Gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours until you’re blue in the face and then come right into your belly,” Peter said. He didn’t let Stiles get ready, to adjust himself. He grabbed his hair and started pulling, forcing the boy down and down and  _ down  _ his cock in a single, glorious slide. That was always the best; getting into Stiles’ throat for the first time. He could feel everything. He could feel the boy gag around him, his muscles tighten, his throat constrict in that sweet second when the head of his cock hit the back…

Stiles didn’t struggle exactly - he never did, not even when things were getting out of hand, he loved this too much for that - but he did tense up enough to make Peter sit up straight, to make him grab his head with both hands and jerk it down the last few inches until the boy’s cute little nose was pressed against his groin. 

“That’s it,” Peter growled, letting Stiles up just for a second, just to choke down a gulp of air around his cock before pulling him down again. And again. And again.

It didn’t take long for both of them to get lost in it. Peter couldn’t get enough of the wet slide of Stiles’ mouth around him, the gurgling sounds he made, the tears that always -  _ always  _ \- came, running down the boy’s face to mix with the drool and precome bubbling from his mouth and dripping down his chin. He felt like he could live in the heat of Stiles’ mouth forever and then the next second, he was so close to coming, he could taste it on his tongue. 

Peter clenched his teeth and forced the boy’s head down his cock one last time, locking his thighs around his ears as his balls tightened up, jerking his hips forward one more time before he started coming down Stiles’ throat in thick spurts…

***

Stiles was always out of it afterwards, and Peter was always there to scoop him up and put him to bed, and to wipe the come from between his legs, that would always be there, despite Stiles not even touching his cock. 


	8. Daddy-kink (Peter/Stiles)

Peter was just about to put his book down and fall asleep when the door to his bedroom creaked open, his sweet boy standing there with teary eyes, sucking on his thumb. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Peter asked immediately, setting his book down and getting up. Stiles looked upset, and that was one thing he hated.

The boy just shook his head, leaning against the doorframe and averting his eyes. He looked fragile and unhappy, and that just couldn’t stand.

Peter made his way over to him quickly, pulling the boy close, rubbing his back softly.

“Had a bad dream, baby?”

Stiles silently nodded his head against Peter’s shoulder, then turned his face to look up at him, thumb still firmly in his mouth. He saw that look many, many times, but he knew he couldn’t just always give in to it.

“You can’t sleep in daddy’s bed,” Peter said, trying to sound stern, no matter how hard it was.

Stiles looked like he would start weeping again, but Peter was faster, scooping him up and setting out down the corridor. 

The nightlight was still on in Stiles’ room, turning slowly round and round, projecting stars and planets over everything, making the smiling clouds and the happy little ducklings dance on the walls. 

Stiles’ let himself be put into bed, but he grabbed Peter’s hand before he could get up.

“Daddy, please,” he said, finally pulling his thumb from his mouth. Peter couldn’t really say no to those lovely, dark eyes, so he gave in, sitting back against the headboard to pet the boy’s soft hair.

“Yes, baby? You have to tell me what you need.”

Stiles looked absolutely adorable as he squirmed in his powder-blue onsie under Peter’s gaze, his face flushed red. The boy lifted his hand again, pressing his thumb against his lower lip. It was still shining with saliva, and Peter knew exactly what he wanted, but he needed his boy to learn to use his words.

“If you don’t need anything, daddy will have to go,” Peter said, acting like he was getting up, but Stiles snatched his wrist.

“I… I need my pacifier,” he blurted out finally in a small voice, making Peter smile. 

“Hm? I think we agreed that you’re too old for that now,” Peter explained patiently, no matter how sulky Stiles looked, his lips wobbling. “But if you promise to be good and go to sleep, I will let you suck on something else.”

Stiles’ eyes immediately lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“I will be good! I promise, daddy!”

Peter smiled, pushing his boxers down his hips and turning to his side a little. That was all Stiles needed, latching onto his soft cock eagerly. Peter sighed contently, settling in.

“Don’t make daddy hard, baby, be gentle,” he ordered, though judging by how sleepy he already looked, he wasn’t too worried that his boy was up to no good.

After all, they both had work tomorrow.


	9. Inflation (Alan/Stiles)

Stiles stepped out of the small bathroom tucked at the back of the clinic covered in only a towel just in time to see Alan bring in a large plastic bucket with a lid.

He had the suspicion that it was the subject of today’s ‘lesson.'

As it turned out, emissary training was not what he expected, and Alan was way too happy to have an apprentice to take care of the more… hands-on stuff. Not like Stiles didn’t usually like the process.

“What’s that?” Stiles asked with his eyes narrowed. 

“Caviar,” Alan dead-panned, making him do a double take.

“The what now?”

“Caviar is just a fancy word for fish eggs,” Alan said with a shrug. “Then again, merpeople aren’t technical fish,” he added, trailing off, too busy rolling the metal examination table to the middle of the room.

“So… mermaid... babies?” Stiles asked confused. The room was cold, and it was making his nipples pebble. Yes, it was the temperature. Definitely not watching Alan taking out an oversized funnel from one of the cupboards.

“Yes. They are dormant right now. A friend of mine acquired them from the black market, they can be used for various enchantments, but the good news is that they can still be saved. All they need is eight hours of incubation, and then we can release them into the sea.”

Stiles had a very bad feeling about this. 

“And when you say incubation…?”

Alan snapped a pair of rubber gloves on his hands.

“Get on the table, Stiles,” he said.

Stiles let out a long breath, wondering how his life got so fucked up, and then dropped his towel and did as he was told.

“Hands and knees,” Alan dictated, pushing down between Stiles’ shoulder blades to make him drop down to his elbows. “Gravity is an ally we need.”

Stiles snorted nervously, trying to relax, but he still clenched up when the man’s slicked up fingers prodded at his hole.

“Just so you know-” he started, but Alan cut in before he could finish.

“You’re probably going to get hard. I know. You can take care of it after we’re done.”

Stiles swallowed and closed his eyes, wincing when the neck of the funnel was slid into him. It was about as wide as a thicker dildo, and the hard plastic was not exactly comfortable.

“It’s okay,” Alan told him, surprisingly gentle. “This will be cold, but they will warm up quick, he promised, as he scooped up the first batch of eggs from the bucket with a ladle. Stiles had a second to see them. They were gold colored, about the size of tide-pods and looking just as firm but squishy. 

And they were cold. Cold enough that he hissed when the first of the eggs slid into him. Alan rubbed a hand over his flank, holding up the funnel with the other.

“Try to relax, Stiles, there’s a lot to go.”

***

When it was over, and Alan finally plugged him up, Stiles felt like he would burst. He couldn’t decide if he was in pain or incredibly turned on or both.

Probably both. His belly was enormous, the skin tight, the muscles of his stomach spasming from the eggs straining against his insides. Yet, he was rock hard, leaking steadily to the table.

“Let me help you get comfortable,” Alan said, seeing the way Stiles’ thighs shook with the effort to keep him in place. Carefully, the man helped him turn to his side and settle on the table. The metal was cold against his sweaty skin, but at least Stiles wasn’t cold anymore, he felt like he was burning up, and he couldn’t help curling around his round belly.

Alan patted his hip.

“I will let you take care of that yourself,” he said, pulling his gloves off. “Maybe take a nap if you can. We will be driving most of the night to get to the bay where we can release them.”

Stiles watched him go with hooded eyes, grabbing at his aching, hard cock the second the man was out of his sight. He’d never been this overwhelmingly, obscenely full in his life, and it felt like everything inside him just served to force the orgasm out of him.

Stiles came in two seconds, and then fell asleep almost instantly.


	10. Nipple Play (Chris/Peter/Stiles)

“W-why…” Stiles asked, his breath hitching, skin feeling too tight. “Why do you fuckheads like doing this so much?”

Peter lifted his head for a second, licking his lips, and looking at him hungrily. Stiles fidgeted under his gaze, pulling at the soft ropes tying his hands to the headboard and leaving him vulnerably exposed.

“Come now, darling, you’re not this dense,” he said, nuzzling the underside of Stiles’ arm, making him break out in goosebumps from the way his stubble rubbed against him. “It gets you hot and bothered, and that gets  _ us  _ hot and bothered. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

Stiles moaned, throwing his head back as Chris sucked on his nipple particularly hard. It had his toes curling, and made him wish that he could touch his cock. 

Peter smiled, and leaned back down to nibble at Stiles’ tit, licking around his areola carefully before flicking his tongue against the bud.

“Fuck,” Stiles said. It felt like every single nerve ending in his body was synched up to his chest, and they were all buzzing with energy.

“You think,” Chris said, pulling back to rub a calloused thumb against his nipple. After the softness of his lips, it was enough to get Stiles buckling on the bed. “We can get him to come just from this?”

“No!” Stiles said desperately, tearing up from the sheer idea, right when Peter said ‘yes’ with a devilish grin.

“Absolutely not,” Stiles insisted, not even caring that he sounded like he was a second away from crying. “Please.”

Chris shifted up the bed to kiss the corner of his mouth, running his hand down Stiles’ front and stopping just above his groin, his pinky a mere hair-breadth away from his poor, throbbing cock.

“Hush, babe, you know I won’t hurt you,” he murmured, patting Stiles’ belly. “And I won’t let him hurt you either,” the man promised. 

Stiles sniffed, lips wobbling. He was so fucking horny. His nipples were red and puffy and sore and he couldn’t…

Peter huffed, leaning up to kiss first him, then Chris. 

“Don’t be like that, darling, I know you can do it. You love it when we play with your pretty little titties.”

Stiles shook his head, but that only earned him an eyeroll, and Peter ducking back down to bite at his nipple, making him convulse on the bed, kicking the air in his desperate search for friction. His cock jerked, spurting out a few drops of precome.

“Alright, let’s give it a go,” Chris said with a smile, the way his fingers pinched his nipple making Stiles’ vision white out. 


	11. Collaring (Ennis/Stiles - cont from #4)

  1. Collaring

Stiles was going out of his mind, and there was nothing he could do about it with his hands tied behind his back with his own shirt. It felt like he was suffocating from need and pleasure and pain and… everything.

“Act like you’re alive, bitch,” Ennis told him, slapping at Stiles’ trembling thigh. “I hoped the Hales would have trained you properly at least, but that pack is nothing but a continuing disappointment,” the man growled, thrusting his hips up and into Stiles hard enough to make him almost lose his balance.

Stiles swallowed, and lifted himself as far as he could, feeling the Alpha’s monstrous cock drag against his abused walls. He thought he would die when Ennis first fucked into him, but it was a little better with him on top. Or maybe he was getting used to it… Stiles closed his eyes and hoped that that wasn’t it. He knew that if he ever got used to this, he would never be able to enjoy sex with anyone else again.

Ennis grabbed the end of the belt wrapped around Stiles’ neck - in the imitation of a collar and a leash - and yanked on it, pulling him back down faster than he was ready for. His cock punched into him, and Stiles whined, feeling his belly distend with the force of it. Oh god, he was so fucking big…

The Alpha made a satisfied noise, holding him there for a second, just shifting his hips to grind his cock into Stiles.

“At least you’re tight,” he said. “But I've had enough of playing.”

With a single move, he flipped them over, burying Stiles under his bulk and then folding him in half, cock still firmly in place. Stiles could feel his eyes filling with tears.

“Please…” he tried, but Ennis just yanked on the belt, cutting his oxygen off for a heartbeat in warning.

“You’re not here to complain, you’re here to serve me, ain’t that right, bitch?”

Stiles silently nodded, his body tense as he waited for Ennis to move.

When he did, Stiles felt like he was being forced out of his own body. The Alpha had to know that he was more than most people could take, and yet he showed no restraint, fucking into Stiles hard and fast. 

He could feel the man’s cock pushing his organs around, making him slightly nauseous. And still, worst of all, there was a burning almost-pleasure building in his guts that he couldn’t ignore.

“That’s better,” Ennis said, his eyes shining red. “Even though I have to do all the work.”

Stiles could barely hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. He knew he should have been used to it now, but somehow the burn of the stretch was only getting worse by the minute and for a second, he was too out of it to understand what that meant.

Ennis grinned down at him, hips speeding up.

“I bet you’re gonna love my knot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thank you for all the comments, you are all lovely! I'm trying to post these when I'm done with five)


	12. Glory Holes (Stiles/OMC)

  1. Glory Holes 

Stiles… Stiles had loved cock since he realized what he could do with his own. When he was jerking off into a sock under the covers, all he could fantasize about were men and cocks and tasting and licking all those beautiful, hard cocks.

He wasn’t sure it was normal. He wasn’t sure just… being gay explained his fixation on cocks, but there was no way around his obsession. Of course, his dad being the sheriff, he never really dared to act on his fantasies, too scared of being caught, but when the time came for him to leave for collage? 

Let’s just say that not having too much self-control to begin with didn’t help his situation.

***

Stiles had a beer, watching the people dance, the music loud enough that he could feel the beat thumping in his chest, like he was a drum too. It made his blood race, and before he knew it, he was on his way to the back. 

The Catnip was pretty queer friendly, but wasn’t specifically a gay bar, when Stiles first discovered the gloryhole in the man’s bathroom, it was like being punched in the face; it made him dizzy and weak in the knees. 

But that was more than half a year ago. 

There was a guy taking a piss at the urinals. He looked drunk, and didn’t even glance over as Stiles made his way passed him, and entered the last stall on the row, his heart beating in his throat. The music was a bit more muted in here, but that just made the emptiness of the bathroom feel more surreal. 

Stiles locked the door behind himself, his palms sweaty as he eyed the hole in the plywood wall separating him from the next stall. There was duct tape on the edges. Stiles was the one who put it there, wanting to make sure that no splinters would get in the way of his fun.

The floor was dirty enough that he could feel the soles of his shoes sticking to it, the smell of urine strong in the air. 

Stiles knelt down, eyes glued to the hole, his pulse racing. 

He didn’t know how long he waited there, staring at that silver-lined hole like he was in a trance. There were people outside, coming and going and doing their business, and he tried not to listen. All he needed to pay attention to was the hole.

He tuned out the world well enough that when someone actually stepped into the stall on the other side, his belly did a nervous flop, adrenaline coursing through his veins and an insistent need clawing at his insides.

There was silence for a second, and then… Then there was a cock. Skinny but long, a bit crooked to the side being pushed through the hole. For a heart-beat, Stiles just stared. 

The person on the other side didn’t wait around much, a second or two later he started pulling back, probably thinking that he was out of luck, and Stiles was struck with sudden panic at the thought of missing his chance. He drove forward, sucking that pretty cock into his mouth with a hunger he’d felt since the last time he was in the Catnip.

The guy on the other side moaned, the sound bitten off at the end. Stiles didn’t mind. Most of the regulars knew what was going on in the stalls, and those who didn’t usually kept their distance. He didn’t care about any of that. All he cared about was the bitter taste of precome smeared on his tongue and the weight of the hard cock against his lips. He sucked and swallowed and finally… finally felt satisfied. 


	13. Medical Play (Alan/Stiles)

  1. Medical Play (Warning: Dark and twisted)

“There’s no need for worry,” Alan said calmly as he tightened the last strap fixing the boy’s leg to the stirrups. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or his patient... It was getting harder to find suitable young men with the public’s anxiety around the recent disappearances, and the relief of finally being lucky again was almost overwhelming.

The poor thing was just coming around, blinking dizzily around the bright space as the drugs wore off. 

Alan liked to work with proper lighting, even if he had to set up shop in a basement.

The boy was quickly getting his wits around him, his eyes widening as he realized that he was tied to a obgyn table naked and alone with a strange man. Before he could make a ruckus, Alan quickly pushed a gag into his mouth. It was shaped like a cock, and it was long enough that the young man had to strain to breathe around it.

“I don’t like to be disturbed,” Alan explained, getting on a pair of blue rubber gloves. He could feel himself harden behind the cover of his white labcoat. Getting his hands on someone for the first time was always the most exciting. “And we have a lot to do.”

He rolled the iv stand with the already filled enema bag closer, carefully lubing up the end of the nozzle before he pushed it into the boy. He squirmed a bit, trying to get away from the feeling of the cold water rushing into him, but there was no use. Alan patted his belly, shaking the can of shaving foam before spreading it on his pubes. He liked his patients to be clean and tidy.

***

Alan took his job seriously, and that meant that the first hour or so was spent with a throughout examination. He took vitals, measurements, mapped out the organs in the boy’s abdomen, completely absorbed in the task, his arousal nothing more than a warm glow in the back of his mind. 

“I think it’s safe to say that you are completely healthy,” he told the boy finally with a smile. The young man’s face was flushed and tear-stained, but that was only to be expected. “That is exactly what we want, if we want to explore the limits of a body,” he explained. 

The boy swallowed, straining against his bonds, but there was nowhere for him to go, and he wasn’t going to sway Alan, no matter how lovely he looked with the panic in his eyes. He lubed up his hand, the slick glinting wetly on the rubber. His mind was already three steps ahead, planning out all the things he wanted to try. The last one, he experimented with stretching the urethra and the bladder… getting far enough to be able to distend it like a balloon and finger his cock until it all went wrong and he had to get rid of the patient.

Now he wanted something different.

Alan looked at the boy stretched out in front of him, the way his flat belly heaved with his nervous breathing, his pink little hole so perfect… He wanted to know how much it could take. How far it could stretch.

And he would.


	14. Praise Kink (Chris/Peter/Stiles)

  1. Praise Kink

Peter kissed the back of Stiles’ neck, looking into Chris’ eyes over the boy’s shoulder. He was pretty sure he looked just as wrecked as the other man… Then again, with both of them buried in Stiles, there was no way to keep their composure.

The boy’s hole clenched around their cocks hard enough to make his breath hitch, and he watched Chris swallow.

“Fuck,” Stiles moaned, tainted with tension and something too close to pain for his liking. 

Chris must have felt the same way, because he was immediately cupping the boy’s face.

“Shh, it’s okay, babe, you’re doing so well.”

Stiles jerked, biting off a moan, but at least it felt like he finally relaxed a fraction.

Oh.

Peter could see Chris coming to the same conclusion, their eyes meeting for a second right before Peter ducked down to bite another kiss into Stiles’ shoulder.

“That’s right, darling. You’re being so good for us,” he murmured against his skin. “Such a wonderful boy, taking us both.”

Stiles whined, his hips twitching just enough to make Peter see stars from the friction on his cock. 

Chris smiled, reaching down to grab onto Stiles’ hips, starting to rock him very carefully. 

“Yeah. Our pretty boy… our pretty, sweet boy. You feel so good, babe.”

“Sh-shut it,” Stiles moaned, his breathing thready. Peter couldn’t see his face, but he was one hundred percent sure that he was beat red. Always so bashful when praised.

“Hm, but darling,” Peter told him, pulling back just a fraction and fucking back into that tight, heavenly heat, rubbing their cocks together. “Chris is right. You are our perfect, beautiful boy… Nobody could take us like you do. Nobody could ever feel so good.”

He wasn’t even lying. 

Stiles very nearly sobbed, but with every word, he seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit more like he was overwhelmed by pleasure than just being plain overwhelmed… It didn’t take more than a few more whispered words to have him moving on his own, fucking himself on their cocks like he would die if he had to stop.

“Stiles,” Chris groaned, straining up, his hands tight around their boy’s hips. “I’m close…”

Peter wasn’t better off either. He’d never felt anything quite like this… never felt this connected to both his partners at once, and it was driving him closer to the edge by the second. 

But he wanted Stiles to succumb first. It was a little game they played with Chris; their boy was always the first.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good, darling,” he murmured into Stiles’ ear. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to us.”

He wasn’t even surprised when that was all it took. The feeling of Stiles tensing between them, his sweet little hole milking their cocks was enough to finish them too.

He had no idea how the boy still needed to be told how good he was, but at least Chris and him were happy to do it every single day. 


	15. Chastity/Cock Cages | Watersports (Peter/Stiles)

  1. Chastity/Cock Cages | Watersports (Warning: Dark and twisted)

Peter didn’t like to be a bargaining chip, especially not in the games his sister liked to play, but he had to concede that times were changing. The war was over, and the peace required personal sacrifices. 

“Are you ready? I swear to god, you’re worse than Cora,” his sister said, as she strode into his room like she owned the place. Then again, she was the queen, so she pretty much did.

Peter rolled his eyes, taking one last look at himself in the mirror. 

“I still don’t see the point of this charade,” he huffed. His face looked alien, now that he’d finally shaved the beard he had during the war. The frontlines didn’t allow for too much personal grooming. “Derek already married that girl.”

Talia shot him a look in the mirror.

“Princess Allison. And yes, he did, and if the gods allow, their union will bring prosperity to both of our countries.”

Peter turned around, showing off the deep red brocads he was dressed in, making Talia smile.

“Exactly. There’s really no need to bring me into this mess.”

His sister had the gall to cluck her tongue like Peter was a particularly thick pup. 

“Don’t be daft, Peter. The Argents are terrified of you, and with good reason,” she said, and at least she knew how to stroke his ego. “We couldn’t have forced them into a truce without your command, and they know it. They want you to have a mate with ties to them, to make sure you will think twice about raising arms against their kingdom.”

Peter huffed.

“And you and Chris thought that forcing me into a marriage with some saltless Argent Belle will do that?”

Talia patted his shoulder, and then pushed at him until he was on his way out of the room.

“He is a respectable omega from a respectable noble family. As long as you keep him in line and put a pup in his belly, you can keep a harem on the side for all I care,” she growled. “Now get your ass to the hall.”

***

Peter immediately and violently reevaluated his position on this mating the second he laid eyes on his bride. The boy didn’t look like he’d reached twenty yet, and while Peter usually preferred the company of more experience partners, he was almost swept off his feet by an overwhelming feeling of  _ want _ . 

He thought… he thought he could make a truce with the boy, make an arrangement that would have allowed them as much personal freedom as they could get while mated. But with every step he took towards the boy, he understood the all-powerful possessive urges mated Alphas liked to boast about. 

The omega looked pale, his eyes a bit too shiny with unshed tears as he stood in front of the priest, covered in a cloak made of the same red material that Peter was dressed in. He looked scared, and somehow that just made Peter want him more. 

It was all he could do not to force the boy to the ground and take him then and there. He was so focused on controlling himself, that he tuned out the maester until the last possible minute.

“Alpha Peter, Grand Duke of Hale, Commander of Her Majesty, the Queen’s armies, do you accept ownership of this omega?” the priest asked, and it was the easiest question he ever had to answer.

“I do.”

His bride swallowed, visually trying to keep from crying. Peter couldn’t wait to see him in tears when his knot first swelled in him.

“And do you, omega Stiles, Marquese of the Beacons accept the right of this Alpha to your body and soul?”

The omega hesitated for only a second, but then he averted his eyes, a fat teardrop rolling down his cheek. Peter wanted to lick it up.

“I… I do.”

The priest smiled, waving a servant boy holding the accessories of the claiming close.

“Then, in front of the gods and your peers, it is time for you, Peter, to stake your ownership by collar, cage and claim and for you, Stiles to show you’re willing to surrender, serve and submit to your Alpha.”

Peter attended his fair share of weddings in his life, and he never really understood the hype, but now, he could feel his eyes burning bright with Alpha power as he picked up the gold-and-gem studded, thick leather collar from the cushion and fastened it around his mate’s pretty, pale neck. It was a ceremonial piece, but he already knew that he would be commissioning one even more beautiful. One fitted tight enough that his omega would never forget it was there.

His cock twitched as he took up the next item, a perfect, intricate, golden cage. It was small and elegant, and the petite lock accompanying it was an artwork in and of itself. 

Peter carefully parted the boy’s cloak. He knew the omega wasn’t wearing anything under it, but seeing his body still sent his blood boiling. The poor thing’s hands twitched by his side, like he wanted to cover himself, but thankfully he stilled at the last second. Peter really didn’t want to start their relationship with punishments. As a reward, he was gentle, as he slipped the parts of the cage onto the boy’s genitals. It was almost too small, he could see that it was uncomfortable, that it made his mate squirm, and deep down, it made Peter wish it was just a bit tighter. He slid the small lock in place and then closed it, hesitating with the key still in the hole. He knew it was an old tradition, that it was not something people expected, but he  _ needed _ ...

Peter looked into his mate’s pretty, brown eyes, turned the key and broke the bow. It took a second for the boy to understand what happened, that he would be caged permanently, and then he finally started sobbing. Peter didn’t think he ever saw anything more beautiful. 

But they still weren’t ready. 

Peter scratched at the boy’s belly in parting and brushed the coat off his shoulders, growling possessively at the sight of his beautiful, trembling omega. It was all too easy to grab his shoulders and push him to his knees. For a second, he worried that Stiles was too distressed to finish his part of the ceremony, but after a last, hiccup-y sob, the boy obediently reached out, unfastening the front of Peter’s pants, pulling his cock out with trembling hands.

Peter smiled down at him, combing his fingers through his mate’s hair before taking hold of the strands to force his head back, his heart racing as he finished staking his claim.

Stiles closed his eyes and didn’t even try to jerk away as the first splash of urine hit his cheeks… and Peter knew this would be a match made in heaven.


	16. Creampie | Humiliation (Stiles/OMC)

  1. Creampie | Humiliation

Raf picked Stiles up two corners from the apartment the boy shared with his father.

“Hop in, sweetheart,” he said, barely even stopping, and the kid did as he was told, looking around skittishly to make sure nobody was watching them. He always acted like they were in a spy movie, like they haven’t done this dozens of times before. 

“Daddy has a night shift again?” Raf asked with a grin, knowing that it would make the boy flinch. Having his father lose his job - then the house - was still a sore spot, and Raf would have lied if he said he didn’t enjoy the holier-than-thou John Stilinski becoming a lowly security guard. Especially since the money troubles provided him with such a lovely… partnership.

“Shut up,” Stiles said, swallowing.

Raf shrugged and pulled away from the curb, taking them deeper into the city. The streets were dark, but full of life, the sidewalks busy with tourists and prostitutes. 

“Maybe we should try setting you up on a corner,” he said, just to be an asshole. Stiles shifted in his seat, pulling his coat tighter around himself and didn’t even glance his way. Little bitch.

It only took ten minutes to reach the run-down hotel they usually used. With Raf’s connections, it was almost easy to set up the headquarters for their little business, and this was as good as it got. The building wasn’t flashy. It was used by a lot of pimps and whores, and nobody asked any questions. 

Even better, Raf got their room free of charge in exchange for a heads-up on possible raids. Easy-peasy.

They parked, and then made their way silently inside. 

***

Raf sat at the little table in the corner of the room, playing Candy Crush on his phone while he listened to Stiles getting fucked on the bed a few feet away. The customer wasn’t very impressive by the sound of things - a lot of grunting and moaning but not enough skin slapping against skin - but he didn’t look. People liked their privacy, especially new guys. 

There was a knock on the door, and he cursed as he ran out of time in the game. 

“What?” Raf asked, opening the door just a fraction. It was Ken, an old time customer. He was actually a bit like a Ken doll; blond and muscular and good looking. He probably would have been a ladies’ men, if he didn’t prefer teenage boys.

“Busy?” Ken asked with an easy smile, shifting from one feet to the other. 

Raf huffed, but let him inside. The guy fucking Stiles didn’t even notice, too busy pumping his hips, the movement making his fat, pale ass jiggle.

“You’re later than usual,” Raf said, motioning for Ken to take the other chair. 

“Yeah, my in-laws are in town, and it took a while to get away,” he said ruefully, running a hand through his hair, watching Stiles getting nailed from the corner of his eye. The boy was silent, other than a few small moans, though they probably had more to do with the weight of the guy on him.

“He had a lot?” Ken asked, nodding towards the bed. 

Raf grinned, showing Ken the half-empty box of condoms. It was a twenty four pack. 

“Yup. If you expected him to be tight, you’re about three hours late.”

Ken shrugged, leaning back in his chair and parting his legs, already getting hard.

“I don’t mind. He’s prettier when he’s out of it anyway.”

The guy fucking Stiles took that moment to finish with a loud, draw-out grunt. He was out of breath when he finally pulled out, tying off his condom.

“Um,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “You have a bin?”

Ken got up, already putting his own condom on. He slapped the customer on the back, and took the used rubber from him.

“You’re new, right? When you’re done, you can just stuff it back,” Ken explained, using two fingers to fuck the condom back into Stiles’ lose, reddened hole, making the boy moan and twitch. A few of the previous condoms must have burst inside, because Stiles’ ass was leaking a lot, the jizz running down his balls and onto the sheets.

“Gross,” the guy said, but Raf could see how he was unable to take his eyes away.

“Then don’t come back,” Ken said with a snort, pushing him out of the way. “More for us.”

Before the guy even had a chance to get his clothes on, Ken was already fucking into the boy, hard and rough. 

Not like Raf minded. Ken always tipped well.


	17. Incest | Cock-Warming | Sensory Deprivation (Sheriff/Stiles)

  1. Incest | Cock-Warming | Sensory Deprivation

John shouldn’t have done it. He knew it in the marrow of his bones. He should never have went to the club, not after finding out that Stiles subbed there. 

But he… he couldn’t. Once he realized what his son was up to on his weekends while away at college, he just couldn’t get it out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. His boy, in a gay bdsm club. Covered in leather, serving strangers and getting off on it.

John hated the thought. He hated it enough that he spent three nights in a row drunk off his ass, but all that earned him were dizzy fever dreams about his son that he didn’t dare remember.

The club sold memberships online for ‘doms’, and John was enough of a detective that it barely took him a day to figure out all the terminology, the etiquette, everything… 

He wanted to say he was drunk again when he joined the club, but that would have been a lie.

***

John felt out of place, like he was back in the force, on an undercover mission. He couldn’t bring himself to dress up in leather, so he just went for a dark shirt and a pair of black jeans he thought were too tight. Judging by the looks he was getting, he imagined it was working.

He showed his shiny, new premium membership card to the guy at the door, and the next second, he was inside. The club was loud, badly lit and humid. 

“Hey,” a young man greeted him, taking his jacket. He looked John up and down appreciatively. “First time here?” he asked, and John nodded, rubbing the back of his head a bit bashfully. The kid pretty much cooed at him, ushering him deeper inside. There was a little side room with barely dressed young men kneeling by the wall, their eyes and ears covered by leather.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, John!” the young man said. “Today is our monthly Privacy Day, so you can take any of the subs you like for a ride!”

Yeah. John knew. He knew it perfectly well. 

His eyes roamed over the kneeling men until he found who he was looking for. Despite a third of his face being covered, he would have recognized Stiles anywhere… But he’d never seen him like this. It wasn’t just the collar round his neck, or the tight leather thong. It was the calmness. Stiles looked like he was completely at ease, kneeling on the floor, unable to hear or see anything, just waiting for someone to use him.

“That one,” John said, nodding at his boy with his voice thick. 

The young man smiled at him, attaching a leash to Stiles’ collar and leading him over. John watched his son crawl on the floor in a daze, his fingers feeling numb around the leash passed to him. 

“That’s a good choice! He’s very timid, but does best under a stern hand,” the young man said, then leaned close to John to whisper. “Classic daddy-issues, if you ask me.”

John closed his eyes for a second, and then forced himself to smile back, before turning to lead Stiles away. 

The club was filled with men. There was a dancefloor cleared in the middle, but around the edges there were other doms sitting by tables with their own boys in their laps or by their feet. John could see at least three couples already fucking. 

He chose the farthest corner. It was shadowy, and the best distance from the screaming speakers. He didn’t dare look behind him, but was carefully to steer clear of people and drinks spilled on the floor. 

John only looked at Stiles when he finally sat down in the blessed darkness of the booth. Oh god.

Stiles moved languidly, like being on his hands-and-knees was the most natural thing in the world, and John couldn’t keep his eyes away from him, it felt like a trance.

A trance. That was the only reason he let the boy crawl up to him and kneel in the v of his legs. Or that’s what he told himself.

Stiles waited, his hands warm on John’s thighs, his lips shiny and plush, cheeks flushed.

John’s hands were shaking as he reached out to cup the boy’s cheek, and had to bite off a groan at how readily Stiles nuzzled into his palm, starved for touch. For affection. Before John could stop him, his son turned his head, sucking his thumb into his wet, hot little mouth, licking around it.

John’s breath hitched, he felt like his brain was being blanketed by a thick, milky fog, and something else, something ugly and hungry was taking over the reins. 

Without thinking, he opened his jeans, pulling his half-hard cock out and was guiding Stiles’ head to it, his heart thundering in his chest.

His son - his smart, beautiful son - latched on like he’d been starving without the weight of a dick in his mouth. John didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he couldn’t come back from this. Maybe he didn’t even want to.

He stilled Stiles with a gentle, but firm touch when he started bobbing his head, and the boy was quick to catch on. He wasn’t here to get his master off. Not yet. He had to serve first.

John stroked his hair, traced the sharp line of his jaw with his fingertips, unable to tear his eyes from his boy, from the way his lips stretched around the girth of his cock. Like they were made for it.

John leaned back, waving a waiter over to get a beer. He would be here for a while.


	18. Size Queen | A/B/O (Peter/girl!Stiles)

  1. Size Queen | A/B/O

Peter rushed out of work, the second he got Stiles’ text about her heat. They didn’t expect it to happen for a few more weeks, his sweet girl wanted to get her last exams out of the way before getting pregnant.

But it looked like nature had other plans. Peter felt stupid, thinking back to how sweet and clingy Stiles had been in the last few days… he really should have known something was up. Stiles was a little asshole, and unless she had an agenda, she was rarely sweet in the classic omega sense.

He was just pulling into the driveway when he got the next text with a badly worded threat about how Stiles would find another Alpha if he didn’t hurry the fuck up.

Peter growled, barely remembering to turn off the ignition, and he was already stomping inside, throwing his clothes off.

“Where are you, darling?” he asked. The TV was on in the living room, and the house smelled like omega heat strong enough to make him dizzy with it.

“You took your fucking time!” Stiles said from the direction of the bedroom. She sounded out of breath, and even just the huskyness of her voice was enough to get Peter fully hard.

“I will have you know that it’s a miracle that I didn’t-”

Peter couldn’t finish the sentence. He was rarely speechless, but the second his eyes fell on Stiles, his brain just. Stop functioning. 

She was stretched out on the bed, naked and slim and beautiful, already covered in sweat. Her pussy was shaved - something she only did on occasion, when she wanted to get into Peter’s good graces - and shining with slick.

She also had the specially made horse-cock dildo they haven’t even had a chance to try yet showed into her pretty little ass far enough to distend her flat belly.

“Darling,” Peter moaned, crossing the room in a second. “You can’t be this impatient.”

Stiles moaned, head thrown back, even as she reached out for Peter, making grabby hands.

“I’m not impatient! I’m empty!” she said desperately, pulling him close and locking her legs around his hips. 

Peter’s cock slid into her wet, soft pussy without even the hint of resistance, making both of them groan.

“Fuck,” Peter growled into her neck, hissing when her nails dug into his back. He could feel the hardness of the dildo in her ass as he fucked into her. “We should get that thing out before I knot you,” he warned, even though a part of him was itching to try how that would feel, how tight it would make Stiles’ cunt to have that huge toy in her too.

“No,” Stiles whined. “Need it… and need you. Need to be full.”

Peter snorted against her shoulder, kissing the mole-dotted skin. She’d always been a size queen, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise, but still. Somehow his pretty little mate always managed to amaze him.

“As you wish, darling,” Peter said, already feeling the familiar itch at the base of his cock, so he kept thrusting into her, wanting to make sure they would be locked well. God, he never wanted to leave Stiles’ body again. 

She was panting, the muscles of her belly clenching, making the bulge of the dildo even more prominent, even as her cunt was already squeezing down on Peter’s knot. 

She was unbelievably, but more importantly, she was Peter’s.


	19. Double Penetration (Chris/wolf!Peter/Stiles)

  1. Double Penetration

In Chris’ opinion, sometimes, it felt a bit isolating to be in a relationship with a werewolf. It was worse when it had been just him and Peter, but since Stiles joined them, it was a lot more manageable.

During full moons, he used to be sitting home, alone, waiting for Peter to get back from his running. It was a part of his life that Chris could never take part in, but now they had each-other to entertain with their boy.

“You feel so good, baby,” Chris said, his hands firm on Stiles’ hips as the boy rode his cock. 

Stiles grinned down at him, his thighs working, lifting him up and letting him drop, his body a line of tension, cock hard and leaking onto Chris’ belly. He was breathtaking.

“Fuck,” the boy moaned as Chris circled his hips. “A-and… you can tell all about… ah… how good I felt to that… asshole.”

Chris snorted, squeezing down on Stiles’ hips and starting to fuck up into him. 

“Sure can, baby.”

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get lost in the sensation, collapsing to his elbows, his flushed face buried in Chris’ neck. He really did feel amazing. Amazing enough, that he almost didn’t hear the sound of the doggy door. 

Chris couldn’t really explain the tension he was feeling as he fucked their lover, eyes glued to the door. 

Peter looked magnificent as a wolf, dark and large, with eyes as piercing as always. He stood in the door, just watching them fuck on the bed.

Chris could see his cock harden, the red of it standing out against the dark fur. 

Stiles still haven’t noticed Peter. 

Chris planted his legs on the bed to better support his thrusts, holding the boy close and reaching a hand down to where they were joined. Stiles felt loose. They’d used more than enough lube, and it was making everything a soft, slippery mess. 

He very carefully inched a finger beside his cock, making Stiles jerk. 

“Shit, what…”

“You trust me, baby?” Chris asked, still looking at Peter. The wolf tipped his head to the side like a puppy, and his tail started to slowly wag.

“Fuck, yes? What, ah…” 

Chris added a second finger, stilling his hips to make sure Stiles was getting stretched properly.

“You remember what you told me this morning?” 

Peter had been already gone by then, and during their morning fuck, Stiles told him all about the crazy, dirty dream he’d had. The poor boy had been so embarrassed. But maybe there was something to the whole ‘spark’ thing, cause it looked like it would become a reality sooner rather than later.

Stiles’ breath hitched at the reminder, and he turned his head. Chris could feel his heartbeat pick up where their chests touched. 

For a second, he thought Stiles wouldn’t be down, but after a few long seconds of hesitation, the boy turned back to him, hiding his face.

“Give me another fucking finger,” he mumbled into Chris’ neck. He was pretty sure he didn’t just imagine the actual whine coming from the wolf in the doorway.

Chris did as he was told. Stiles felt tight and hot around him, with his cock and three of his fingers stretching him. 

Chris turned his head to press a kiss against Stiles’ temple, just as he felt the mattress move from the wolf joining them.

“You need more, baby?” he wasn’t sure where this all would end up going, but he wanted to make absolutely certain that Stiles was comfortable as he could be.

The boy moved his hips in a slow circle, like he was testing the waters, and swallowed.

“The only thing I need is another cock,” he bit out, surprisingly needy.

Chris barely had enough time to pull his fingers out, and the wolf was on them. His long, slim canine cock was hot to the touch as Chris guided it to Stiles’ hole. 

Peter’s large head was just an inch from him, and he wasn’t even surprised when he got licked on the mouth. 

Stiles cried out when Peter entered him, the clench of his hole almost too good to bear. Chris could see how hard it was for the wolf to keep still, to make sure that their boy wasn’t hurt. When he licked at Chris’ face again with an unusual air of nerves, he let his lips part, kissing the wolf with the same affection he kissed the man.

Stiles let out a slow breath and relaxed between them, moving his ass just enough to let them know he was good to go. 

That was all Peter needed, he growled, pushing his cold, wet nose first against Chris’ then Stiles’ pulse point, and then he was off, fucking their boy with enough force to rattle the bed.

It was hard to register everything he was feeling, and Chris gave up after a while… The weight of Stiles’ body, the clench of his hole, the taste of Peter’s kisses, the friction of his hot cock against his… it all blurred into one single sensation of overwhelming pleasure.

Maybe they were meant to enjoy the full moon together after all.


	20. Fisting (Peter/Stiles)

  1. Fisting

“Come… come on!” Stiles said, sweat beading on his forehead. It was amazing how laser focused he could be on occasion. “I can take it.”

Peter clucked his tongue, bending down to bite at his ass, careful not to break the skin, but hard enough to make the boy hiss.

“I will tell you when you can take it,” he growled, twisting his wrist. He was up to four fingers now, tucked warm and comfortable into Stiles’ body. He could have probably forced it, could have pushed and pushed and pushed and had his whole fist in that wet heat, but he wanted to do this right. Even more so since Stiles seemed to be in a rush.

“Fuck you,” the boy muttered into the pillow, his hips moving against Peter’s fingers, trying to get them deeper. Always wanting more.

Peter just smiled, curling his fingers, pressing them against the boy’s prostate. There was nothing sweeter than watching Stiles’ back arch, his neglected cock leaking come to the sheets where it hung between his legs.

Stiles whined, his hole clenching around him. But Peter had a plan now, and he wouldn’t be distracted by pretty things.

“Stay still for me, darling,” he said, getting hold of the boy’s hip to make sure he actually obeyed before starting to really concentrate on that spot.

“P-peter, fuck…” 

“That’s the idea, but first you need to relax a bit,” he promised, fingers busy kneading and teasing that hard little gland. He could practically see Stiles getting closer to coming. His whole body grew flushed, muscles tensing up, his voice getting that indescribable tone that was so sweet for Peter’s ears.

“Nnn. No, Peter, I wanted…”

“Wanted to come on my fist, I know,” Peter hushed, circling Stiles’ pleasure spot with his middle finger before rubbing against it. It made the poor boy mewl like a kitten in heat. “And I will make you, don’t worry, but this first.”

Stiles didn’t act like he heard him, face buried in the pillow, hair sticking to his scalp with sweat. Peter just grinned and gave one last, hard nudge to his prostate. 

Stiles came silently and with a shudder, his cock squirting out come, untouched. 

Peter watched him, watched the way his body finally lost the tension and pent up frustration. 

And that was when he finally tucked his thumb against his palm and pushed his fist into his sweet boy… he wasn’t sure Stiles even noticed, still trembling with his orgasm, but that was fine. They'd only just started.

He slowly pulled his hand out, his own cock hard from the feeling of Stiles’ hungry hole clinging to him, and then he fucked his fist back inside, the lube frothing around his wrist. 

He wondered how much Stiles could take. 


	21. Breeding Kink | Somnophilia (Chris/Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!
> 
> Soooo, real life is being hard on me right now, so for now I'm marking this as finished, cause I can't keep up and it's just making me more anxious, and I do not need that right now. 
> 
> I might add chapters when I can concentrate on anything again, but until then, take care! <3

  1. Breeding Kink | Somnophilia

When they first met, Chris knew that Stiles didn’t want to have children, that he was a free spirited little thing, set on living life on his own terms. And Chris had been fine with that. He’d already had a beautiful Alpha daughter from his previous marriage - a daughter only a year older than Stiles, in fact - his line would continue. He was older, more experienced and more mellow than all the young Alphas running around trying to get their knots wet for the first time.

He thought he would be able to handle it.

Oh, how very wrong he was. There was a world of difference between being married to a beta and being mated to a sweet, ripe omega. Stiles was… perfect. He was perfect in every way Chris could imagine; he was smart, he was breathtaking, he had a savage sense of humor and a nurturing side he reserved for people he loved.

They’d only been mated for half a year, and Chris already knew that he had to put his babies into Stiles. It wasn’t just a nagging thought, or some cloudy instinct in the back of his mind, no. It was an acute, biting ugre that gnawed on his insides in every waking hour. He  _ needed _ .

He’d tried to bring it up with his young mate a few times, tried to be smart about it, taking a walk in the park, making comments about omegas with strollers. But Stiles didn’t even acknowledge it, too busy planning his upcoming start at college. He’d taken off a year so they could be mated, but he was eager to start the next chapter of his life.

Chris was careful to examine himself. He loved Stiles. That was the one thing he was certain of. And if he found that his needs would hurt the boy, he would rather leave. But the more he thought about it, the more reasonable everything seemed. 

After all, omegas were made to bring new life into the world. They had incredible bodies capable of carrying multiples to term over and over. The traditions of the last few centuries didn’t just appear from nowhere, they were based on the fundamental truth, that an omega’s duty was to carry their Alpha’s children. 

And… he was Stiles’ Alpha now. He was responsible for him. What if Stiles later - when it was all too late - realized that he would have been better off having a few pups? And he surely would, it was only biology. Stiles would end up remorseful, and Chris wouldn’t be able to turn back the clock, would he? If… If he got Stiles pregnant, he would merely be taking care of him in the long run.

Stiles always took his birthcontrol like clockwork, every evening at seven, he would pop one of those damned pills. There was no way for Chris to stop him from doing it - not without a fight - so instead he went on the internet to look for a solution, and managed to find a guy selling one. 

He had to wait until Stiles took his evening pill. Then he had to wait an hour and make him drink the medicine that would knock it right out of his system. Omega birth control was strong, and the guy he brought the antidote from warned him that it would be difficult. Stiles would fall asleep when it took effect, and from there, Chris would have a three hour window to knock him up. No more, no less.

It took some planning. Some maneuvering. Chris didn’t like to take such underhanded measures, but he was sure he was doing the right thing here, even if his mate was unable to see it. They were six months before the time Stiles was set to start college, and he needed to act. California law was still strict enough that omegas who were ‘visibly pregnant’ were not allowed on college campuses.

***

Sties fell asleep on the couch, tucked against Chris’ side as they watched some stupid show about gold mines. It was subtle, but he could already tell that Stiles was smelling differently. His dealer said that the smell would go away when Stiles took the pill again tomorrow, but that wouldn’t affect the pregnancy. Omega bodies were made to be pregnant. 

Chris turned off the TV, feeling strangely excited. They had sex almost every day, but somehow he knew that this… this was the first time it really mattered.

He picked the boy up and took his to the bedroom silently, not even turning the lights on. What little glow came in the window would be just enough. 

Chris laid Stiles out, undressing him with careful hands, gently petting his flat belly. He could already imagine how it would look, round with his children and full of life. Stiles was already beautiful, but he had no doubt that pregnancy would make him glow. Maybe it will change the silly boy’s mind, and he would realize that he was happy being a homemaker. No… no, there was no ‘maybe’ about it. Chris knew he would. He would have Stiles all for himself, and they will have kids running around and it will be perfect. 

Just the thought of that happy future had him achingly hard. God, he waited so long to do this, to put his seed in Stiles where it would blossom into something beautiful.

Chris quickly got out of his clothes, climbing over his mate, kissing his unresponsive lips, his neck, running his hands down his smooth sides. Stiles was always squirming when they had sex. He was always in motion, biting his lips, moaning, clutching at Chris or a pillow, and Chris loved every second of it. But… but there was something wonderful about him like this too. Still. Perfectly at Chris’ command. Submissive. 

Chris reached between the boy’s thighs, searching out his tight little hole, rubbing his fingers against it over and over until Stiles’ body did what it was meant to, becoming loose and slick under his ministrations. Chris never had his blood race the way it did when he finally fucked his hard cock into Stiles’ waiting body. 

All he could think about, as his hips started moving, rutting into his sweet boy, was doing this again, eight months from now, when Stiles will be round with his children, soft and obedient and ready to be the best omega he could be…

It took a surprisingly short time for him to get to the edge. 

Chris never knew coming could feel so much like victory.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it!
> 
> You can find me at udunie.tumblr.com!


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